


stay

by stilinskisderek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anchors, Cuddling, Fluff, Love Confessions (implied), M/M, Panic Attack, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisderek/pseuds/stilinskisderek
Summary: It's the anniversary of the Hale fire and Derek has a panic attack.Stiles is there to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I do not have experience with panic attacks, or with anyone who's ever had a panic attack. What I wrote was based off some research, the whole helping them breathe and trying to soothe the person.
> 
> If I am wrong about any of this, or I've portrayed or worded anything incorrectly, please inform me. I really don't want to disservice those who have panic attacks, or make panic attacks seem any different from what they truly are, so please, please tell me if I've got any of it wrong.
> 
> Aside from that, enjoy. ❤️

 

"Heyoooooo, Derek-o. How's my favorite sourw— Derek?"

Stiles halted his happy march into the loft, taking a moment to understand the sight before him.

Derek, sitting at the edge of his bed with his head bowed.

It wasn't odd behavior, nothing out of the ordinary if it was someone else, but this was Derek, and Derek, despite popular belief, was almost always doing something when the pack wasn't chasing after the latest Big Bad.

Whenever Stiles came over, which was a lot nowadays, Derek would be cooking or working out or pacing for God knows what reason and if he was sitting, he would be reading or watching a movie for the 1900s.

And maybe today was just a different day, maybe Derek was just thinking, but Stiles could sense the gloom in the room.

He felt it in his core, and had even more reason to worry as he stepped closer and began to pick up on Derek's heavy breathing.

Stiles moved forward until he was standing in front the older man, squatting down before him to get a better look at Derek's face. "Der?"

A thin layer of sweat spread over just about every bit of Derek's face, starting from beneath his hairline. His hair looked to be slightly damp, eyes puffy and red, irritated from the sting of water that had clearly been pouring earlier given that it was still faintly but visibly trailing down his flustered cheeks.

The man's chest was heaving dramatically, the sound of his struggled breathes coming out in waves.

A panic attack, Stiles realized, and he put a little more space between himself and Derek, knowing space was best in this state until the person has calmed.

"Derek, can you hear me," he asked, "nod once if you can."

Derek nodded his head, still not meeting Stiles' eyes, which was okay. It made sense.

"Okay. Follow my voice, Derek. We're the only ones here," said Stiles, maintaining a leveled tone, words coming out slower than usual. He had to pace himself. Speaking any faster would most likely cause confusion, or come out as threatening because there was a possibility Derek wasn't understanding much at the moment. "You're safe, I promise, just listen to my voice. Nod once if you understand me."

Derek nodded again.

"Okay. Now please, try to take a single breathe, like this." Stiles took a deep breathe, making sure it was loud enough for Derek to hear over his own, "just one."

He watched as the man's hands clenched into the sheets as he struggled, breathing becoming more raged.

"Slow down, Der. Take your time. If you try too hard, you're going to have a difficult time," Stiles explained, "try to focus on something that soothes you, makes you feel safe, it'll be easier that way. I promise."

Derek pinched his eyes shut like he was fighting against thoughts that did the exact opposite, dark images that haunted him, that were possibly the cause of this.

"Derek, a safe place. I believe in you, you've been through a lot, you've pushed through all of them. You can push through this too, Derek. I know you can."

Stiles' palms began to moisten with sweat. His heart rate had gone up, and he was aware. He was worried, far more worried than he had expected to be in a situation like this. He had to calm himself as well because if Derek listened in, it would probably only heighten his own panic.

"A safe place," the pale skinned male repeated, allowing the images of his mother to flood his mind. His mother right there, helping him cut the cake on his fifth birthday with Scott standing beside her, his crooked jaw emphasizing the smile that was plastered on his face.

"Something that makes you happy." The smile on his father's face, the tears of joy in his eyes as he watched Stiles give his salutatorian speech.

"A place that feels like home." Beacon Hills, where his pack is, where his family is. The only home he could ever dream to spend the rest of his life in, the reason he came back after five years away.

"Something… someone that grounds you. The one person who keeps you connected at all times, will always bring you back… an anchor, Derek."

Claudia, Scott, his dad, pack, family… _Derek_.

Derek, who had been there for him since the beginning, even when they claimed their hatred for one another.

Derek, who almost never failed to make Stiles smile, even with his dry sense of humor.

Derek, who has been letting Stiles be in his space for over a year now, with no complaints, just acceptance.

Derek, who had played a big part, even if it was in the back of his mind, in keeping him at bay when the void had taken over.

Derek, who's made protecting pack his one true mission in life.

Derek, who has always put everyone else before himself.

Derek, who was always ready to jump into the fire just to make sure the people he loved came out well and alive.

Derek.

Derek made him feel safe. Derek made him feel happy. Derek kept him grounded. Derek.

"An anchor, Derek, an anchor." It came out hushed, almost as though he were saying it to himself.

His eyes had closed at some point without him even noticing, and when they reopened, Stiles noticed the slowing rise and fall of Derek's chest and the loose hold his hands now held around his covers and his eyes, directly on Stiles, gazing into Stiles' own.

Stiles took a step closer, hesitant and slow.

"Derek?"

"Stiles." His voice came out a little raspy, a little breathy, a little cracked.

"Are you…" _okay?_

"I'm— I'm better," said Derek, "thank you. I… you didn't have to, but you did and… thank you."

The corners of Stiles' lips tugged upwards lightly as they formulated a small smile.

He sat at Derek's feet, bending his knees and crossing his legs over each other, locking them into place.

Maybe Derek didn't want to talk now, but he probably wanted the company. Or, at least, wouldn't mind it.

Stiles was always in need of someone else after panic attacks. He wasn't sure why, it's just how it was.

Derek stared down at him expectantly, awaiting something, and Stiles took that as his cue to talk.

"I used to have panic attacks a lot after my mom died," he started, "they sucked… like a lot, obviously. My dad always knew how to handle them well since my mom used to have them too when she was alive, so he already knew how to go about it. He would use different techniques, talked to me with a hand on my knee or my shoulder just so I would know someone's there for me. Sometimes he would ask me to help him count. Sometimes he would use a God damn tongue twister, I don't even know how that one ever worked, but hearing him repeat 'Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers / A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked / If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck,' was soothing to me."

Derek chuckled at this. It was a humble sound, but the fond smile that followed had Stiles' heart fluttering.

"Yeah… it was something. I always had someone there for me. And I still have them sometimes and he's still always there for me whenever he's around, sometimes it's Scott, sometimes even Lydia, and sometimes, rarely, I can handle them on my own but it's nerve wrecking and takes more time for me to calm. I wouldn't want anyone else going through that… I don't want you to have to suffer through that."

"It doesn't happen often," Derek informed all of a sudden, "not anymore, at least. They were more common after the fire, Laura was always there for me. But it's only happened twice in the past three years."

"Any reason as to what triggered it today? If you want to share, need someone to talk to about it, of course."

Derek was silent for a moment, like he was contemplating on whether he should say something or not. Stiles opened his mouth to tell Derek he didn't have to, if it was personal, he understood, but Derek beat him to it.

"The fire, it happened on this day, thirteen years ago."

Stiles wasn't sure what to say. He knew offering a sympathetic talk or even saying, "I'm sorry," would do nothing, would probably just irritate Derek or sadden him even more like all the pity did to Stiles after his mom died.

So he didn't say anything.

He slowly reached out for one of Derek's hands, rested his own over it for a moment to allow any rejecting reaction.

It never came. All he got was a softened gaze from Derek. Therefore, Stiles wrapped his hand around Derek's and pulled it closer to him. He held Derek's hand in both of his own, close to his chest, and caressed at Derek's palm with his thumb, not once breaking eye contact.

"I'm here," was all Stiles said, and Derek understood.

-

"I thought about you," Derek voiced from where he stood by the stove, mixing the steamed vegetables in with the special sauce he still refused to give Stiles the recipe to.

They were cooking together. It had taken a while, but Stiles eventually dragged him into the kitchen to help take his mind off things. Stiles never really understood it, but Derek always seemed to be more relaxed while cooking.

He looked over at Derek with furrowed brows, "what?"

"When you… when you told me to think of something that would help me calm down, I thought of you."

Stiles couldn't help the widening of his eyes or the thudding of his heart or the sudden shaky breathe that he released. He hadn't expected that at all.

Sure, he had reasons to suspect that the feelings he had for Derek were mutual, at least a little, if the constant hints from Erica and Boyd and Isaac and Scott and, hell, _even his dad_ and just about everyone else involved in their lives, were anything to go by. But earlier, he had told Derek to think of a lot of things, things that boiled down to an anchor, and he couldn't possibly be that for Derek, mean that much _to_ Derek.

The younger man cleared his throat, noticing that Derek's eyes were now on his, a look of wonder in those orbs.

"Which… which part?" Derek's brows creased at the question, so Stiles clarified, "I told you to think about a couple of things."

"You told me to think about a couple of things, things that described what an anchor is to someone else. Meaning, you told me to think of an anchor… I thought of you."

"I thought anger was your anchor." Stiles' words were strained, struggled.

The sudden realization that, yes, he did indeed mean that much to Derek, was too much to handle at once. The man he's loved for years now, the man he's been falling for ever since the day they first met.

Derek gave him an almost secretive smile, "it was. Not anymore."

-

Time flew by after that.

They spoke a little about nothing, really. Then they ate, and spoke some more.

Okay, well, Stiles spoke and Derek listened and grinned and sometimes rolled his eyes with the occasional comment here and there, but it was nice all the same.

"Woah, it's really late," Stiles stated after checking the time on his phone, noticing that it was a little last one in the morning. He stood from where he sat on a chair he had pulled over to Derek's bed where Derek was currently sitting. "I should probably, y'know, get going."

Derek's eyes suddenly seemed to sadden, the way it always seemed to do whenever Stiles decided to leave, but maybe it was just in Stiles' imagination, as always, because as quick as the look came, it vanished.

The older man nodded, but said nothing.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Again, Derek nodded.

Stiles nodded as well, like an idiot because he had no idea what to do with himself, and turned away before beginning to walk off.

Truth be told, he didn't want to leave, never really did.

He wanted to stay with Derek, spend the entire night just talking about anything or getting comfortable on the couch to watch one of those black and white movies Derek enjoyed so much. He wanted to bicker about something like they always did, and he wanted to relax and enjoy Derek's company. He wanted to sleep in the same bed as Derek and wake up next to Derek.

He wanted a lot of things, things that he could possibly have, maybe, if he would just say something.

Maybe.

"Stiles."

He spun around immediately, almost as if it were a reflex, turning to face Derek who gave him a hopeful look that mirrored the way he was currently feeling.

"Please stay."

Stiles' heart took a sudden leap and began thrumming viciously, not sure how to respond to Derek's words, which was ridiculous considering the fact that he's been wanting this for years now. He should've been prepared, but shocker, he wasn't.

"You don't have to… I understand if you don't want to… it's—"

Stiles didn't give him a chance to hold anymore doubt, just made his way over to the bed and sat down beside Derek.

"I'll stay as long as you need me to," said Stiles, heart beating steadily because it was no lie.

Derek's voice was mellow when he said, "you might not want to say that. I just might ask you to stay forever," which was probably meant to come out as a joke, but his face gave away the fact that he truly wanted it.

Stiles laughed, a short and quiet thing, but just as joyful as always. "I wouldn't mind that at all, actually."

"Yeah?"

He nodded slowly, intertwining his hand with Derek's, "yeah."

-

Stiles woke up cuddled around Derek.

They hadn't fallen asleep like this. Last night, when they had laid together, there was a good twelve inches of space between them. They were facing one another but they were making no skin on skin contact.

Now, Derek's back was against his chest, his arm wrapped around Derek's waist, legs tangled together with a blanket hitched up to their shoulders.

It was everything Stiles has ever wanted and more. He's never felt a comfort like this before despite having shared a bed with another on a more explicit and physically intimate level on more than one occasion.

This was different.

Stiles couldn't say he didn't expect it to be, but it was overwhelming to say the least.

Derek looked vulnerable in this state, soft and the most relaxed Stiles has ever seen him. It was a strange thing seeing him like this given that Derek was never one to let his guard down, but he had last night, with Stiles because he trusted Stiles. Stiles, his anchor.

It was still hard to believe, but it was true and that meant more to Stiles than Derek would ever understand.

"You're thinking too much," a throaty voice murmured sleepily, making Stiles still immediately, "your heart is racing, and I can basically hear your thoughts."

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered, moving to separate himself from Derek so he could scurry off the bed. He wasn't looking to disturb Derek at the moment.

Derek pulled Stiles' hand into his own, keeping the human secure where he was.

"Stay."

He did.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the cleanest work I've ever written, not even any kissing and I am admittedly proud. It was enjoyable since its so different from what I usually write.
> 
> And I just had to make Derek the little spoon. It felt so necessary. I live for Derek being all calm and feeling safe enough around Stiles to be that open with him.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed.
> 
> As always, negative and positive feedback is always welcomed. Both help me grow as a writer. ❤️
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://girlmeetssterek.tumblr.com)


End file.
